


These Here Are My Desires

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Female Bilbo, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3699071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the hobbit hole, after the war. In a completely different universe than all of my other creations. Fret not, dear ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sapphire

**Author's Note:**

> Angst and laughter. The two humors.

_Thorin’s smile is a flash of white teeth and sparkling blue eyes and just a hint of endearing crow’s feet at the edge. It lights up Bard of Laketown’s small abode and causes Bluebell Baggins to hiccup against her teacup. He is very regal, she thinks absently, and that smile could call the stars down from their perches._

_It comes to Blue, after the battle, after_ **everything** _, that that moment is the last time she sees Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain smile without sadness._

_She can still taste blood and metal on her teeth for hours after._

It is exactly Autumn when the raven swoops into her main kitchen. Mad Baggins has awoken herself once again by screaming. Her heart racing. Her palms sweating. Her eyes full of . . . nevermind that. The raven swoops into her kitchen with a small piece of parchment tied to it’s ankle with red ribbon. It gurgles at her in the strange speech of Erebor’s ravens. Blue smiles, halfway, and gives water to Saph the Raven and then feeds her small bits of brisket from earlier that day.

Hours pass before she can bring herself to read the message.

It is from Dwalin. Now, that one she didn’t expect. Fili and Kili, yes. Bofur, at least once a week. Ori, it was practically a novel. They were all so kind and sweet and tender that she would hold them close to her heart until the ache subsided and she’d grit her teeth until her heart slowed to a manageable pace. Then, she would sit in her armchair and try to articulate in kind what she felt, still feels, still feels with every inch of her body and mind and soul, while the letters called from the desk.

Before tea time, she begins to read:

_**To Miss Bluebell Baggins of Bag End,** _

_**The Crown Princes, The Company, and my blasted brother would not let me sleep nor eat nor clean my bloody axes in peace until I sat down and wrote you this letter. They tell me that although you write back swiftly and as they put it, beautifully, you still leave out parts of that biting honesty that our Burglar always has.** _

_**If that is the case, Master Burglar, then I hope you will have recovered your wits by the time we reach Hobbiton in the next few weeks. Yes, the next few weeks. Saph, my raven, has excellent navigational skills and will be able to find Bag End even in the middle of our journey.** _

_**We will see you soon,** _

_**Dwalin, Son of Fundin** _

_**P.S. Tea is still at four, I hope.** _

It is so Dwalin. The short letter. The short words. The short time to prepare. It sends Blue’s nerves into overdrive and it makes the laughter that spills from her mouth all the more surprising. **  
**

The Company is coming back to her. _His_ Company is coming back to her.

_"Do you think we could have been friends, Gandalf? In another life?” And the hobbit asks this with only mild trepidation because she is punch drunk on the moonlight and still being alive. Being alive is such a powerful thing indeed._

_The wizard puffs thoughtfully on the end of his pipe, “No,” he answers dryly, but then smiles, “You are never friends.”_

 


	2. Honeysuckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, good thief.

_“What ever do you mean, Gandalf? Why . . . why couldn’t we be friends?” Blue knows her voice sounds aching even to her own ears. And she runs the small length of the journey so far through her head, finding only circumstantial evidence about Thorin hating her guts. Still, it stings a bit. Through her internal rant she does not see the Grey Wizard tilting his head and letting out a light chuckle._

_“Bluebell Baggins, I only mean to say that two such as you more often than not do not become friends. That is it.”_

_Still, later that night, lying cold on her sleeping roll, she has the distinct feeling that is not what her friend meant at all._

Standing in front of a hallway mirror, Blue practices her market face.

It is the face she uses to placate vendors, family, and friends into believing that she is perfectly content and joyful to be shopping at the open market. It is easier to make the market face when Bag End doesn’t feel so empty. Though, after a half an hour passes, the face slides easily onto her countenance, and if she looks at herself through periphery, it almost seems real.

So, coin purse in hand and market face securely on the only hobbit in Bag End steps out the door for the first time in a week. It would be fair to say that the sun temporarily blinds her. As Bluebell Baggins rubs at her temples and wonders why she ever thought to go grocery shopping, Hamfast Gamgee and his youngest (for now) son are pruning the roses, letting their employer mumble a string of unintelligible ramblings before the elder smiles, “Good morning, Master Baggins.”

It frightens her to think how quickly the market face resumes occupancy. Her eyes now soft. Her mouth not quite a full-blown smile. Her eyebrows slightly lifted. “Good morning, Hamfast. Good morning, Samwise. Thank you for taking such good care of my mother’s roses, they do look lovely today.”

The gardener is quick to smile back, suppressing the instinct to ask after the young hobbit, much like he would his own children. “No trouble at all, Miss Bluebell. It is delightful to see them in all their finery once more.”

Blue nods her quick assent, “Yes it is, and if you will excuse me dear Gamgees, I must be off to the market. Could I pick anything up for you, while I am there?” All the while she smells roses and thinks of the withered state they would have been in if Hamfast had not dutifully watered them even without pay. She thinks, not for the first time, that if they had died while she was . . . away, Belladonna Took may not have minded.

The hobbit almost misses Hamfast’s chuckle and his, “No, but thank you kindly, Master Baggins. We will be off soon.” It is only until she is out of the gate that she realizes little Samwise Gamgee was staring at her the entire time. Well, she says to herself, the damnable market mask doesn’t do quite everything.

The stalls are open. The shopping begins. And, as usual, the farmer’s market is slow and lazy and utterly boring but she doesn’t let the mask slip from her face the entire time. She doesn’t let it slip from her face when some young fauntling asks her name and their mother pulls them away by the ear. She doesn’t let it slip when Lobelia Sackville-Baggins’ cousin sneers in her face and asks how it feels to be such a disgrace to her family’s honorable name. And, she most certainly does not let it slip when a new vendor takes one look at her coin and asks if it is real.

No one offers her help with her wagonful of supplies and groceries. That is fine. She hasn’t needed help carrying in anything in an awful long time. It is nearly dusk when she reaches her estate and it is most certainly night when she gets everything unpacked and organized. Tomorrow will be another very, very, very long day but she cannot halt in her actions lest she drown in to do lists.

Under the slope she can hear the Gamgee’s laughing and talking and enjoying a late supper together. Under the cover of the deep dark velvet sky she tiptoes into the back garden and goes to lay flat on her back. The grass is soft and still sort of warm from the afternoon sun. Blue allows herself to trace the constellations with her eyes.

Yavanna the market is awful. She hates being fake. She hates the niceties. She hates . . . she hates this feeling. 

She falls asleep with that feeling on her chest and the grass clutched in her hands. 

_Bofur sits beside her on a log a few nights after she and Gandalf’s “friend” conversation. The dwarf and his funny hat are a sight to see next to the windblown hobbit. Blue expects nothing less than him ignoring her, because that is what most of the Company is comfortable with doing. She gasps when something is placed into her curling and uncurling palm. They have been on this journey for three weeks and no one but the wizard has purposefully touched her._

_She wants to laugh when she sees the intricately carved and melded toy dragon._

_“ . . . Thank you.” Blue says, and she really means it. “It is so lifelike!”_

_Bofur smiles, actually smiles at her, “I’m a humble toymaker by trade, lass. It is a token of apology. I should not have been so cruel to make you faint.”_

_Somewhere within Bluebell Baggins body comes a twisting of gratitude, “It is lovely, Bofur. You should change your name to the Proud Toymaker.”_

_It isn’t the last time she hears him laugh._

******  
  
**

 

 ********  
  



	3. Stars, Pt. 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why blue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and criticise. You guys are the wind beneath my wings.

_The halfling is shivering. Her teeth are chattering together and her fingertips are just regaining a pink tinge instead of a purple one. They had hauled the hobbit from the icy river just after she had finished stalling the trolls that almost killed them all. Technically speaking, she had saved their lives, Thorin’s life, not Gandalf. And yet, she is still shivering._

_Dwalin sighs, long and irritably. Why in Mahal’s name must he be the one to do this. Still, he digs inside of his saddlebags until his fingers hit an extra cloak. It will certainly be huge on the halfling. But, warm indeed. With no prologue he stalks across the way and shoves it into her arms. “Here.” She looks up, way up, forehead wrinkling in incomprehension and surprise. It clicks when he rolls his eyes. “O-oh. T-t-t-hank you M-m-m-ister D-w-w-alin.”_

_Dwalin has the good graces only to snort once, “Just put it on before you butcher your words further, halfling.” She does. And she looks utterly ridiculous. The shivering has stopped._

_The hobbit glides her fingers across the fabric, “I love the blue.”_ _Then she stares at him for one, two, three seconds. “No one called me Blue, before. I was just Bell, or Bluebell.”_

_Before can bite his tongue, he says, “Blue is my favorite color.”_

_The halfling just . . . smiles. And oh, curse bluebells and curse blue eyes. He needs a drink._

**ONE WEEK OUTSIDE OF THE SHIRE**

The birds are singing. The sky is a perfect cloudless blue. And Dwalin is trying not to throttle Crown Prince Number Two. 

Kili has not halted his yammering for weeks. Dwalin is starting to wonder if the pest even breathes. Recall one minute ago when Dwalin was just trying to take a leak and  _Prince_ Kili came up behind him to start yapping about the Shire and how close they are and do you wonder if Blue made apple pie and on and on and on and he can't take one more minute of it. He might already be insane. No, insanity would be a reprieve from questions about the halfling. 

He lets out a particularly long suffering sigh, "Please, Kili. Please. We will be there within the week. Send a raven if you must. But, please, please, please, let me take a piss in peace." His tone is pleading, pleading for Mahal's sake, and he knows that Kili looks a little like a heartbroken puppy without even turning around. "Fine, we'll be there within three days." The dwarf prince cheers, tries to hug him, thinks better of it, and goes to tell the motley crew that Dwalin has made all of his wildest dreams come true. Pah. At least there is blessed silence . . . for three seconds. 

They all thought the halfling would be back by now. That is why they are here. Perhaps, for his efforts, he may even get blackberry tart. 

That is, if he doesn't kill Kili first. 

_He stands to Thorin's side, like always. His friend is tense, his King is tense._

_Dwalin, always having the good sense to keep his mouth shut, just waits. His patience is rewarded when Thorin speaks, even if it is not what he expected, "The . . . hobbit was brave today. Don't you think, Dwalin?" Thorin's voice sounds like rolling thunder and he can't help but notice._

_"Aye, she was. Quite brave for such a peculiar creature."_

_Thorin looks at him and his eyes burn like sapphires and you could liken them to any gem in Middle Earth and they would still shine out the bloody stars. "Goodnight, Dwalin."_

_"Goodnight, Thorin," he says, quietly as to not wake the others._

 

_It is a long time before he sleeps._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued!


	4. Stars, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are breaching the town of Bree. And the halfling is very much in reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I love reading your comments and thoughts, they are really a treasure. We are still with Dwalin at this point, and I forgot to mention that the italics at beginning and end of chapters are flashbacks but not necessarily flashbacks inside the mind. Again, thank you for making my first foray into writing fanfiction a worthwhile one.

_Balin stands behind him, slowly creating the braid behind his ear. It reminds him of another time, soon after their father had died, after the desolation of Smaug, when Balin stood behind him and slowly clipped his mohawk into nothingness._

_Dwalin is relieved, that this time, there are no scissors. Fili and Kili are doing the same thing beside them, except Fili is being a little over directional to his baby brother on how to exactly, exactly get his moustache braids right. Dwalin just lets Balin do as he wishes, for the opportunity lets him drowse a bit._

_The Nephews laughter wakes him and Balin is still tugging slightly at his hair, so he settles for gazing across the fire. He does not gaze as broodingly as Thorin, who is slowly getting his hair back into order. Nor does he gaze as thoughtfully as Blue, who is trying to get one of her curls from sticking out straight from her head. They are both equidistant apart, they are both absolutely iridescent in the moonlight, and they are both without someone to braid for them._

_Balin chuckles and clicks his tongue, at what Dwalin has a feeling he knows, but he cannot give his brother the pleasure by turning around._

_Instead he just closes his eyes._

_But all that he sees are stars._

**BREACHING THE BORDERS OF HOBBITON**

It is Dwalin's favorite kind of day. The early autumn rain came down for a little over an hour and then the sun peeked out from fluffy white clouds and left the world with a cool breeze. Now, as day gives way to evening, he realizes they might not make it to tea time. The entire of the Company is smiling. And he can even feel one side of his face lifting into a half grin. The halfling is even closer than ever and then they will convince her to leave Bag End and come back to Erebor and there she will have . . .

Magnificently engineered gardens. Yes, that is it, magnificently engineered gardens. His brother trails behind him a bit, while Kili is right on his ankles, and if he hadn't been so happy at the prospect of a bed, he might have flipped the prince over his shoulder already. Sapphire flies in a circle above them, gurgling out raven speech, to then fly on to the Shire, and he suspects, The Baggins Estate. 

Once they reach the only road, hobbits of every age and width come to watch the parade of dwarves head to Mad Baggins house. A few even dain to glare at them. Fili holds Kili back from either screaming or punching. Though, after the few rude, most are cheerful. Some even wave. Their pace quickens the closer they get to the slope of Bag End. The younger Prince even breaks into a sprint once it is in sight. He knocks once, twice, three times until the door opens slowly, almost warily, which is good, because she cannot know that it _is_ them. 

His, no their, Burglar, to put it kindly, looks like hell. 

_" **FILI! KILI!** " _

_Dwalin jumps up and so does the rest of the Company, as Crown Prince Number One comes sprinting out of the forest frantically looking for a hiding spot, therefore leaving his younger brother to fend for himself against the drenched halfling. Who is holding her equally drenched book with one hand and her sword in the other. "UNCLE! HELP ME! UNCLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He sighs, he really does, and grabs Kili by the ear._

_"What did you do boy?"_

_"Mister Dwalin! We didn't mean for her to land in the river! We just wanted to see the . . ."_

_Fili, from where ever he is hiding, curses, "YOU! NOT WE!"_

_"For Mahal's sake! What is all that racket?" Thorin comes out of the woodwork, quickly taking in the soaked hobbit, guilty nephews, audience, and Dwalin. "What did you do?"_

_But, before Kili can answer, the very pale Burglar just sheaths her letter opener and shakes her head, "Nothing! Nothing . . . I'll just go! It is really fine! I tripped, so clumsy me! Apologies." She almost falls over her own large feet getting away from them. Dwalin hits Kili on the back of the head for good measure._

_The halfling had looked . . . frightened._

_Balin gives him a mournful look later and he realizes. The halfling thought their anger was for . . . oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MANY TALENTED ARTISTS INSIDE THE HOBBIT FANDOM. Just thought I'd mention that.


	5. Lost in Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick interlude before we get to the really hard stuff. Ghosts to confront. Difficult things to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, super short interlude before the . . . well, you know. Comment as you please. Also Blue and I share an attribute.

Blue's _emotions tend to leak out of her hand._

_Whether it be through the clasping and unclasping of her fingers, the popping of her knuckles, or the wringing of her hands themselves. They always seem to let out the emotion pent up in her body. It's healthier for her in a way, no use in getting too too too upset when she could just squeeze her hands as tight together as possible and try not to scream._

_Her hands only keep the flood at bay for so long. And she wakes screaming their names._

Dwalin  _sharpens his axes, Grasper and Keeper, and tries to ignore the sets of eyes upon him. His brother tries to touch his arm but he just shrugs Balin off and tries to concentrate. Kili, knowing what is wrong, brings him a hammer and fires up the forge._ _  
_

_He melts down Grasper with a sapphire ring from Thorin's own hand. He melts down Keeper with the dragon ear clasp that Bluebell Baggins wore as she faced down Smaug. The metals mix with his tears, they drip down his beard, carving rivers into his forge stained cheeks._

_He calls his new axes, Thief and King._

Thorin  _wants to vomit and later he is sure he does. He had forced his two closest . . . allies to act as something unspeakable. He had made them to stand at his left and right sides, beside his throne. He had humiliated them by making it so._

_Still after all of his misdeeds they had pulled him from the depths of his madness._

_The Burglar and The Warrior, the runes would have run down his arms, above the veins filled with Durin the Deathless's blood._

_He is like a bloody ouroboros, cursed to eat his own tail for all of eternity._

_Oh Aüle. What had he done._

 


	6. Always.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have made it there and back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go. Comment as you please.

_Her shirt is a fine, light cloth masking the mithril underneath. It is a soft cotton with no sleeves, a deep Durin blue._

_She halts her footsteps at the edge of Bree. She had traveled back with a caravan of Men. Rangers, refugees, and others. The Rangers had always favored her as a child, their Captain would have considered it a disservice to let Belladonna Took's daughter travel alone to Hobbiton. Most though, were polite and detached at the same time. They must have known._

_Blue thinks she sees dwarves, in the woods, by the streams, in the marketplaces, and knows she must be mistaken. Any Ereborean dwarves would have made their way back to the Lonely Mountain by now._

_Still though, she dreams. And when she reaches the Shire only to find a ransacked house and glaring faces, she closes her eyes, and she dreams._

Master Baggins, or Mad Baggins as she is called by many a Shire-folk, opens the door to Bag End almost too slowly.

Kili stops seconds short of throwing his arms around her waist and spinning her around and around and around again, the same as always. Instead, he stops and stares for a moment, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side, "Blue," he starts, "you look like . . . "

Fili peers over his brother's shoulder, "Ah, Miss Boggins, hell." 

Blue, looking pale and a bit stricken, squeezes Kili's arm to make sure that he is real. And, for the first time in months, really smiles, no mask included. "My twin terrors, come here." And, for the first time in months, the Burglar and the boys, embrace. 

Bag End is in immaculate condition, the pantries are full, guest bedrooms aired out, but the her hand is still twitching. The dwarves file in one by one, hugs, kisses, and kind words are all given freely. The missing part of Blue's body is slowly being rebuilt. Slowly, as her Company files in, some missing, some there, she feels the walls she had erected to keep from crumbling fall, brick by brick. 

Dwalin slips of his hood, while the last brick crashes. 

_"You love him too." Dwalin comes over, after, and that is what she says. And there are plenty of words left unsaid between the lot of them, so he decides to add a few more to the pile._

_"Halfling . . . I . . ." he tries to start, failing miserably._

_Bluebell Baggins, Master Burglar of Thorin Oakenshield's Company and surely one of the great star-hewn loves of his life, rolls her eyes. "Dwalin, do not pretend to mishear me, it is quite beneath you and considering that we all very nearly lost our live today, it is ridiculous."_

_He winces, hard, then sighs. Much too tired to play petty games of avoidance and much too fond of the person in front of him to even try. "In what way?"_

_The Burglar swallows and tries not to look so thoroughly clash-of-teeth-and-tongue-and-chapped-lips-kissed. "In every way," she says._

_And Dwalin just . . ._

They haven't said much. Neither of them. The hobbit has busied herself tending to her guests, no, her family and lighting candles and being particularly fussy about the state of Fili's braids. Balin, who after months of wheedling, was allowed to come, sits in one of the living rooms with Ori and smokes his pipe. Master Baggins brings them tea and cookies that he has been craving for his whole life he just didn't know it until now, fluffs pillows behind their tired heads, and shows Bofur where she keeps her dragon keepsakes. They stare at each other from across the room for a few seconds, until he cowards out and pretends to sleep in his chair like a tired old man. He is quite young, you know. They all are. 

His brother scratches Sapphire under the chin and feeds her seeds from a small tray nearby. "Balin, why is she called Sapphire?" Blue asks, still feeding the spoiled rotten raven berries. 

Balin laughs, "Why do you think? Bluebells and blue eyes, lass. My brother can't help himself." 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short, sorry. More planned for tomorrow. Maybe even 2,000 words. :)


	7. Midnight, Part I.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight Breakfast. Dwarves. A hobbit. What more could you ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't been updating as often as I should. Graduation is May 14th and whoever said high school was the best years of your life was a pathological liar.

_"Belladonna Took was many things, an adventurer, a friend, and an excellent baker. People called her Bell, and later, they called her daughter that as well. After she had married Bungo Baggins, she brought a tradition to Bag End that she had shared with her best friends, closest cousins, and a few select people. It was called Midnight Breakfast. The last hobbit mealtime was at nine o'clock in the evening, Supper as they called it, and the goal was to whip up so much decadent food and have so much conversation that it made it impossible to get up the next morning and have actual Breakfast. It is only to be shared with those whom you truly love."_

_Bluebell Baggins kisses the note from her mother, tucks it carefully into her pocket, because she'll need all the strength she can get today._

 

_She'll need the love, too._

 

Blue is awakened by whispering. 

 " _A_ _nd would I tell you that you all lived happily ever after? No, Bluebell, I could not, for no one truly does. Still, there is happiness. And, you did, you do_ **live.**   _"_

Bluebell, once again, wakes to whispering. Sunshine filters through the curtains and she opens her eyes to the ceiling, covered by a plethora of blankets, and missing a few pillows. She would recognize those voices anywhere, in the midst of battle, deep in the dungeons of Mirkwood, and booming across her smial. The Princes of Erebor peek over her one either side of the bed. 

"GOOD MORNING, BLUE!" They practically yell in her ear. In a quick, practiced movement, she tugs harshly on Fili's moustache braids and yanks Kili's ears. "Hellions! The lot of you!"


	8. Midnight, Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a hard life for those who left their dreams untold. So, they say, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graduation is done! I missed this. Please comment and let me know.

_There were things he wanted to say, but he knew that the words would hurt her. So, he said nothing, taking the words and burying them deep inside, so they would hurt him instead._

_He would say to her, the slope of your neck is poetry, and your shoulders are a gift to all kind, and if I were better then I would . . ._

_Dwalin is helping her up from the mud, large hand encompassing her long fingers, and he can't help but wonder if the halfling knows the way Dwalin is looking at her._

_He buries that thought, too._

Blue should have known that yelling would bring the hordes down upon her head. By the way the Princes are grinning, she can almost imagine that they planned this all along, knowing that the Captain of the King Under the Mountain's Guard would come bursting through the frail by comparison door to dole out . . . something. Perhaps the orc did do her some head damage, because she suddenly feels a bit soft, like the events playing out around her aren't so much real as wishful thinking. That stops though, when Fili and Kili are dragged out by their tunics, and Dwalin looks at her directly for the first time since they arrived. 

"Are you alright, Bluebell?" he asks, mostly grasping his axes, and avoiding the real questions. 

"Yes," she says, "I'm . . . alright. But," and she is feeling particularly brave at the moment, so she goes ahead, full force, "you don't call me Bluebell." 

Dwalin pauses, closes his eyes shut tight, like the moments after, "Ah, I suppose you're right, lass. I don't call you Bluebell."

"Well, now that that's settled. Come give us a kiss."

Their eyes meet, and it is a hard stab at who stops laughing first. 

_"His Majesty asks your presence, Master Burglar."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love you all.


End file.
